When It Just Happens
by Laura x Tennant
Summary: <html><head></head>Final chapter up now: The Doctor makes good on his promise to be romantic for once, and after sorting out an alien dispute like they do best, he and Rose have a nice three course meal whilst watching the stars, and he finally gives her her birthday gift.</html>
1. Chapter 1

_**A/N: For Rose Marion Tyler, 'cos it's her birthday today :D xxx**_

_**-x-**_

_**When It Just Happens**_

_**Part 1**_

_And this is why getting drunk with the rest of the humans at the party is absolutely a good idea for a Time Lord who's in love with his best friend._

She tells him off for staring, but really, he can't help it.

It's not his fault. She shouldn't be wearing _that, _if she didn't want him to stare at her. It should, by rights, be mauve; it's so dangerous. But actually, it's black. It's the tiniest little black dress he's ever seen - well, at least, he's sure it would be if he'd ever paid attention to little black dresses before now. As it happens, he didn't realise he had an affinity for them until she came out wearing one earlier on.

So really, she's caught him completely off-guard and it is Really. Not. His. Fault. And if he's a little tipsy, that's all her fault too, because she insisted that he had to act the part earlier, and get pissed with the rest of the group; it's only fair, she said, that he gets a hangover too. Pfft. But fine; he'll do whatever she wants because she's Rose and she's wearing the sexiest dress in the universe.

"Doctor," she hisses, and he jumps, just a bit, in surprise at being caught again. She's glaring at him from across the small space between them. Or at least, he guesses she is; he's not looking at her eyes right now, rather her legs, and blimey, do they actually go on forever, because he's thinking he'd like to test out the theory with his tongue or something and wait, she's telling him off again.

"Doctor, stop it, will you?" she says emphatically, trying not to draw attention to herself. Epically failing, however, as everyone's staring at her already anyway. She really shouldn't be wearing this dress. He casts a glance around the room and swallows thickly, his jaw clenching tight. Damn. He's really not the only one enthusing at the thought of exploring the sensual curves beneath that tight, delicious, _gorgeous _–

She heaves out a sigh and he watches, and then she smacks at his arm and grabs at his hand and she's pulling him out of the living room and into the kitchen and seriously, he's really quite enjoying it until she pokes him sharply in the chest with an indignant finger. She does it again, harder this time, and actually, he's changed his mind; he's still really quite enjoying it. Funny, that. He wonders whether -

"What, exactly, is your problem?" she asks huffily, interrupting his racing thoughts but making his racing hearts race even faster. "I know you didn't want to come to this party tonight, but you don't have to - "

He moves so quickly, with the intent and purpose of shutting her up with his mouth, but when he presses his lips to hers she jumps back in shock and the air that takes her place is not nearly as satisfying.

He pouts, his eyes crossing as he stares down his own nose, checking to see if his mouth is being normal or whether it's turned blue with that dreadful stuff he's been drinking; he's thinking if it has, maybe that's what put her off. But no such luck. He pokes out his tongue to observe that too, but it's still as pink as ever so he concludes she just doesn't want to kiss him, which is fine.

Well, it's actually not fine, it's really quite alarmingly heartbreaking, and a crushing feeling has set up camp in his chest but he's totally not going to let her see that, no fear. He grins like he's done nothing wrong, aiming for cheeky and drunk and not at all about to cry. And he ponders that _wow_; he's emotional when he's been drinking.

"What are you doing?" she gasps, clutching a hand to her chest in shock. Her eyes flicker over to the open door, and she closes it swiftly. Then, she catches sight of the hatch between the kitchen and living room, and leaps forward, closing that too.

His eyebrows are steadily rising and when she's apparently finished blocking out the rest of the party – which honestly, is absolutely fine by him, it's only full of drunken human twenty-somethings who all want a bit of Rose's attention, attention that they can't, or at least, _shouldn't_, have, thank you very much, she belongs with him now, and yes, he tolerates the domestic side of things now, _enjoys_ it often, in fact, but it doesn't mean they all had to come around for Rose's twenty-first, does it?

Of course, it's really her twentieth but she missed a year remember, and yes, that was his fault so maybe he should be more yielding about this matter, but seriously, he just wants to take her to Belle Ariaa, the nicest restaurant on the other side of the sun, thanks, not bring her here where he has to share her and her black dress with all her old crew and her _mum _and her _mum's _crew, too. He's already been propositioned three times tonight, so he dreads to think how many of the young human men in the flat right now have come onto Rose herself, the birthday girl, the beautiful, brilliant best friend of the greatest time traveller ever -

He takes in a deep breath.

Anyway, it's not so bad now, because she's locked them all out, and the music's still loud but it's more of a dull vibration than a constant ringing in his ears, so that's better too. What's very much _not_ better is the fact that Rose still doesn't want to kiss him, however.

She hoists herself up onto the kitchen counter and _oh_, why does she do that? She looks even more delectable now, and that's just mean, that's just cruel – like hanging a carrot in front of a donkey or waving a banana in front of a Time Lord then abruptly snatching it away. Like showing him something he wishes he could have, then staring at him, arms folded, as if he knows he's done wrong and can't have it anymore. Or ever.

He feels a bit dizzy, and clutches at the fridge for support, leaning against it and trying for casual instead of seeming like he needs it to hold his weight lest he falls over. She's frowning now, and that won't do, especially as there's two of her, slightly blurry; and two Roses scowling at him is bad, bad bad bad, oh but not that bad, not really, it could be worse, but_ still_, it's a bit bad, 'cos both Rose's should be happy, not frowny...

"Doctor, are you alright?" she mumbles, and he hears her voice in his ears but only just, like she's a great distance away instead of right in front of him. Right in front of him. Right in front of him, where he could just pitch forward and kiss her again, except he can't, because she doesn't like that, apparently. Hmph.

"Doctor?" she repeats, and she leans forward, which is kind of good but not; two sets of Rose Cleavage is fairly nice, but not when he can't have it, so now he's sulking instead and does not reply.

He squeezes his eyes shut and exhales roughly, wondering if he's ever found it this difficult to stand up straight before.

She grabs his hands and pulls him forward, and he opens his eyes and there's just one of her again. "Hello," he mumbles, wrapping his arms around her waist and snuggling into her hug that she hadn't really been offering but he'll pretend she was as his excuse. He's finished sulking and now just wants a cuddle to make him feel better.

She strokes his back and he thinks she probably doesn't mean to do it, or at least, it's just a comforting gesture. But it doesn't feel like that, not to him, and his spine's tingling with it. He squeezes her middle to distract himself but that doesn't really work, and then he moves his mouth against her neck as he wishes her, "Happy birthday, my wonderful, beautiful Rose."

She laughs uncertainly in his ear at his affectionate remark and he pulls back and cups her face with his hands. "I mean that," he insists firmly, and she nods, believing him, and he's satisfied. Then he remembers something and pouts again. "Why won't you let me give you a birthday kiss?" he grumbles, still cradling her head, his thumbs softly stroking the apples of her cheeks.

She raises an eyebrow. "That's what that was? Just a birthday kiss?"

"Yes," he nods emphatically. "Did you know, Rose, it's an insult to reject a birthday gift."

"The kiss was my _gift?" _she retorts, giggling. "I _knew _you didn't get me anything, you cheapskate!"

He drops his hands to the countertop and looks very, very put out. "Of course I got you something! But I can't give it to you _here,_" he whines. "Or else your mother might kill me."

Rose grins, tongue between teeth and it's _maddening. _"What is it, then?"

"Well I can't tell you that, it'll ruin the surprise. But listen," he says, hushing his words conspiratorially. "I'll take you somewhere romantic and then you can have it!"

"Romantic?" she laughs, wrinkling her nose up. "You don't do romantic!"

He huffs, once again very annoyed. "Well I am going to this time, alright?" he grumbles.

She hides her disbelieving smirk and replies, "Alright!"

And then her eyes are widening and her mouth's hanging open and she's removing the hands he's just started to caress her thighs with. Ah. He thinks he's made a bad move again. Oh dear. Still, not his fault, remember! Totally her fault, honestly. Or maybe his hands' fault; they do tend to move of their own accord, sometimes, even with his rather excellent self-restraint...

"Doctor, seriously, does drinking alcohol really change you this much?" she giggles, keeping his hands still and decidedly not on her legs by entwining their fingers in the wonderful way they fit together so nice and snugly.

"Noooo," he denies, tilting his head forward to rest his forehead against hers. "Always want to kiss you," he admits. He nuzzles his nose against hers when she gasps in surprise. "Always want to touch you."

"Doctor?" she murmurs, unsure. She lets go of his hands and she pulls his face back from hers to look him steadily in the eye. "Doctor, you wouldn't be doing this if you weren't drunk," she states, sounding, dare he hope it, a little sad.

"No, but I'd be thinking about it," he retorts, and he wishes he had the confidence to tell her how he feels about her when he's sober, but he doesn't, he knows that, so he's selfish and decides to tell her now, when there's no ramifications for him. Indeed, when there's probably no way either of them will remember this come morning; she's drunk herself, after all, even if she's apparently handling the walking and talking thing much better than him.

"Because you are just so lovely, Rose Tyler," he continues, his hands finding their way back to her thighs, feeling the silky fabric bunch up in his fists as he slides higher; but she doesn't move them away this time, just scoots closer to the edge of the counter pressing closer to him and he loves it, loves her. "And I think you must know by now, quite honestly, how much I - "

The door slams open and he almost wants to die of embarrassment because he thinks it's going to be her mother and won't that be awkward, him with his hands almost, almost, so, so _almost_ up her daughter's dress with him about to proclaim his love for her in the most unromantic setting possible. But then he breathes a sigh of relief, and so does she, because it's just two other amorous people trying to absorb each other in a snog, stumbling into the room and almost falling over each other in their passion.

Rose clears her throat pointedly and a girl, Shareen, her name is, he's pretty much sure, tears her mouth away from her bloke's and looks guilty for a split second, but then her eyes widen when she sees the position the Doctor and Rose are in and she shouts a triumphant, "Ha! I knew he fancied you really!" before her bloke drags her out of the room with a quick apology, shutting the door behind them.

He looks at Rose, then, and they both burst out laughing, but then the laughing is suddenly muffled because her lips are on his, yes, _her _lips are on _his, _because _she _is kissing _him, _or at least he thinks that's how it happens but maybe they just kiss each other at the same time, but it doesn't really matter because however it occurs they are _kissing _and it's _glorious. _

He's pulling her closer to him, hands slipping to her bum, and she's running hers through his hair and he thinks _this_ - it's the best feeling in the universe. But all too soon she's pulling away, gasping for air as he's grasping for his senses back, no, wait, as he's grasping for Rose back, his hands now on her knees and wrapping her legs around his waist and he's tilting her back to try and reach her neck, her collar bone, the top of her chest with his lips and his tongue and his teeth and she moans, and –

There's someone calling for her, now, someone other than the Doctor, because he's just whispering her name over and over and over, not shouting it from another room; they ignore the unwanted interruption and she drags his mouth back to hers.

But then the calling gets louder, permeating their cosy little bubble of loveliness, and she's cursing under her breath as she pulls away and he thinks he quite loves that sound, too, but oh no, she's moving away from him, running a hand through her tangled hair, straightening out her dress, opening the door and he's left, alone, in the kitchen of her mum's flat, completely, _completely_ missing her already.

His hands grip the edge of the counter and he breathes in deeply, trying to reign in some sense of control, some sense of –

She's back, then, not fifteen seconds later, having said her quick goodbyes to whoever was leaving just now, and this time there's dark, desirable promises in her eyes and she's taking his hand and leading him out of the kitchen and into her bedroom.

The rest of the party plays on outside her bedroom door while he and Rose dance alone within.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Part 2**_

**-x-**

Sometimes, she thinks, when she rolls over to see what the hell happened last night, life can really surprise you in the most wondrous of ways.

She can feel a warmish weight, you see, pressed up against her back, and she's pretty sure there's a hand that isn't hers situated in the rather intimate location that is her upper thigh.

So she rolls over, pushing against the warmish weight until it flops onto its back, and she _stares. _

She literally lies there and just stares at him, for five whole minutes. She doesn't think she even blinks that often, she's so transfixed by the sight.

Abruptly, she shivers, and realises she's not only got no clothes on, but there's no sheet or duvet to be seen. She sits up slowly, unwilling to shift too much on the bed in case he wakes up, and peers over the edge. Ah. There's the duvet. Evidently not needed last night. She suspects they generated enough heat themselves and –

Okay, woah. She really shouldn't have sat up. Her head's spinning, now, and as she squeezes her eyes shut to block out the light and fight against the dizzying sensation, she considers that next time it's her birthday, she will not drink. At all. She opens one eye and sees him again, and decides she wishes she hadn't drunk at all last night – not only because she then wouldn't have this stupid god damn hangover, but she'd be able to remember what happened. With him. In her bed.

She swallows nervously, wondering what his reaction will be when he wakes up. She's so terrified he'll either brush this aside like it's not important, or have a go at her for taking advantage or seducing him or something. She reckons he's more likely to do the first thing. She's not sure why that scares her more, but she thinks it might be because she's wanted this for a ridiculously long period of time, and if he snatches it back again and pretends it means nothing, she might not be able to control all her pent up emotions any longer.

Incidentally, she's only just realising she should be taking this opportunity to memorise his naked body, in case she'll never see it again.

So she does. It's quite a nice naked body to memorise, it has to be said.

And she beams, because she may not remember what happened, but she's pretty sure it featured _that _particular aspect of his anatomy, in which case, she is one lucky, lucky human girl.

Hang on.

Oh god, now she's just remembered. He's an alien. He's actually an actual alien, and while he doesn't look it (she's not actually sure whether she expected him to look different to a human male beneath his clothes, but she's sort of so besotted with him that she doesn't think she'd give a damn if he did) he still most certainly is. She realises that she's missed the most monumental moment of her life. Her first, and probably last, time with an _alien. _She wishes she could remember what it was like. Was the actual...act...any different?

Well, she reasons. It would certainly have been different in one respect – one that has nothing to do with him being an alien, just him being him. He's the love of her life, after all, and she's sure that people say that it makes things a lot more..._more. _More meaningful, passionate, intense... Then again, they were both really drunk. Maybe it didn't last long enough to be all those things. In which case, she feels...sad. She hopes it was meaningful.

She shivers again, and carefully leans over him to pull up the duvet from the floor, draping it across them both. And then, to her surprise, he's draping _her_ over his chest, tugging her down and wrapping his arm around her in his sleep.

She grins into his shoulder, and decides to go back to sleep for a little while. No need to break the amazing illusion that this, all this sleeping with their naked chests pressed together, is all quite normal just yet.

**-x-**

The first thing he registers when he wakes up is that he's happy. So, so, _so _happy. It's been a long time, weeelll, forever, since he's felt so happy. So content. So peaceful. He yawns, and licks his lips.

The second thing he registers is that his lips taste of her lips which taste faintly of strawberry lip_gloss_.

Then he opens his eyes fully and there's a mop of blonde hair right there and he knows that hair, it's Rose's hair, belonging to Rose, his favourite person ever, who's mostly on top of him, _naked,_ and then all the events of the night before cascade into his mind and he blushes with the memories. He may have been really very drunk, but he's a Time Lord, and he should've known that he'd remember everything by the time he'd sobered up.

He finds he's even more thrilled.

But then, he realises he's going to have to pretend he doesn't remember, when she asks him about it. Because otherwise she'll think he took advantage of her, which he really didn't; it was completely all her, mostly.

Anyway, surely she wouldn't have worn that dress if she hadn't wanted someone, preferably him, to be seduced by it, to rip it off her and fling it across the room to land on her chest of drawers. So he's fine. He's safe. He didn't do anything wrong.

She stirs, then. He feels her back muscles flex into a stretch as he continues to hug her to him like he's been doing in his sleep.

A few seconds later and she's rolling off of him and staring up at the ceiling with wide, owlish eyes.

He swallows thickly, and discovers his voice enough to murmur, "Rose."

He hears her inhale quickly and wonders if that's a good or bad thing. "Yes?" she squeaks nervously.

"We. Uh. Weeelll." He turns on his side to face her, willing his voice not to stutter next time. "We slept together last night."

She bites her lip impishly, and tilts her head to look at him. "Looks like it, yeah."

He finds himself leaning closer, inexplicably drawn in by the hint of her tongue making an appearance in the corner of her mouth as she smiles. He's about to ask her how she feels about that, or what will happen next or something equally serious, but before he knows it he's asking, "Did you have a nice birthday?"

Rose stares at him, dumbfounded, then giggles. "Yes, thanks. From what I can remember of it."

He smiles. "Where does your memory of the evening cease to be?"

She blushes deeply. "Well, I...I remember bits and pieces. But mostly nothing that went on in, er, here."

"Ah," he replies succinctly.

"Do _you _remember anything that happened once, um...?"

"Once I threw you on the bed?" he pre-empts cheekily, waggling his eyebrows. He shrugs when she goes even redder. "Some things." All things. Each and every touch and gasp and moan –

"But you were really drunk," she points out.

"Yes," he nods. "Extremely inebriated, thanks to you."

"You didn't have to drink that much!" she retorts indignantly.

"Yes I did. To keep up with you! You told me I had to."

"Oh. Right." She now realises that he does as she asks quite often. He's pretty extraordinary, really. She wants to kiss him because of that. Well. She also wants to kiss him because he's very naked and very much in her bed right now, but that's...beside the point.

"Are you...okay about this?" he asks her carefully. Please say yes, he thinks. Please.

"Are you?" she counters.

"I asked you first," he insists. "So what's your answer?"

"Well, it depends."

"On what?"

"On what _your _answer is."

Silence. Then, the Doctor murmurs, "So, if I said, yes, I am okay with this, what would you say? Hypothetically, of course."

"Of course," she smiles, relieved. "I'd say I'm okay with this too."

"Right." He pauses briefly. "What if I said I'm better than okay with this?"

Her eyes widen. "Well, that would be the same for me," she croaks out.

"Well. That's...good to know."

"Yeah."

"Yeah."

They stare at each other, searching each other's eyes, and he can't help but tell her, "So, I'm considering that maybe we should do it again."

"What?" she gasps, but then she's grinning.

"Weeelll, it's only fair. See, I remember pretty much everything, but you don't, and that kind of unbalance just will not do. Therefore..." he trails off, hoping the fact that she's giggling at his suggestion is a good thing.

"Are you serious?" Rose checks, her giggles subsiding.

"Do you want me to be?" he asks quietly.

She's silent for a moment, trying to work out from his expression what he's thinking. He's looking at her, into her eyes, and she thinks he's scared of what she might say. She also thinks that maybe, just maybe, he actually wants her.

"Yes," she answers.

He exhales roughly, starting to smile. "Well, then. I am very seriously serious. I want to make love with you again."

She swallows hard, and bites her lip to stop herself squealing in happiness. "'Make love' again? I would've thought that last night was just a good, quick f- "

" - it meant something," he interrupts her hurriedly. "I know that for sure, actually, because you told me something last night which I'm hoping you'll tell me again."

"What did I say?" she asks anxiously.

He lifts his hand and brushes her hair behind her ear tenderly, stroking her jaw on its way back down. "Something beautiful."

"Which was?" she whispers.

He smiles, edging closer. Opens his mouth to answer her, when –

"Rose?" Jackie calls groggily, banging on her bedroom door.

The Doctor pulls the duvet up and over their heads so that they are both completely covered. "Shh," he whispers. "If we hide under here she won't see us."

"You're daft," Rose grins affectionately, shifting closer to him so that she can wrap her arms around his neck. "You're also very nice and naked right now."

"That I am, and so are you," he agrees, raising an eyebrow. "Do you reckon she'll burst in if we're very, very quiet when we - "

Jackie interrupts him then, by bursting into her daughter's bedroom, ruining the Doctor's plan and pre-empting Rose's answer to his question. "Rose? Are you awake? Listen, darling, I'm going to nip out and get some aspirin for my head..."

She carries on talking but the Doctor just whispers to Rose, "She says it's for her head, but I bet she spikes my tea with it."

"But you're allergic," Rose protests.

"Exactly."

"No, she wouldn't do that. Knows I'd kill her if she tried to poison - "

" – and _what, _exactly, is he doing in here!" Jackie shrieks, pulling back the duvet.

**To. Be. Continued.**

**Ha, see what I did there? The dramatic cliffhanger? So very Dr Who, y/y? XD **

**Now, what would make me really, really happy - aside for the fact that it is my 17th birthday today *cough-hinthint-cough* - is lots of nice reviews :) It does make me smile so to hear your opinions. Concrit welcome too, of course :) Lots of love, Laura xxx**


	3. Chapter 3

_**Part 3**_

_**-x-**_

The Doctor groans, and Rose flushes red with embarrassment. "_Mum," _she hisses.

"Listen, Jackie - " the Doctor begins.

"Don't you 'listen Jackie' me, you old alien pervert - "

" – oi!" Rose argues. "He's not a pervert. At least, I don't think he is..."

"Hey, of course I'm not!" puts in the Doctor. "Look, Jackie - "

"- don't you 'look, Jackie' me, either! I am looking, thanks very much, and I don't like what I see!"

"Well, now you're just lying," he dismisses smugly, and Rose smacks him. "Ow!"

"Mum, seriously, what is your problem?" she grumbles, tucking the duvet back over them. "I am an adult, you know. I can shag who I like!"

"I don't care," Jackie sniffs, folding her arms. "How do I know he didn't coerce you into it, hmm? With some weird alien hypnosis or something? Hmm? _Hmmm?"_

Rose rolls her eyes, just as the Doctor informs her that she watches too much telly.

"She's a consenting adult, Jackie," he says then, with an air of indignation. "There's nothing dodgy going on. And she's twenty-one, anyway! Well, sort of. It's hardly like I've stolen her virtue or anything -"

" – oi!" Rose exclaims, glaring at him.

"What?" he asks defensively. "I haven't! You can't exactly deny that someone else got there first!"

"Good!" shouts Jackie.

"How is that 'good?' I care about her more than her previous two!" he retorts hotly.

"Doctor!" Rose cries, before sighing heavily, wondering how they've got into this conversation. She's also a little pleased, though, that one, he sounds jealous of the idea of there being others and two, he reckons he cares about her more. All very promising, that.

"Yeah, but you're an alien!" Jackie exclaims.

"What, are you being prejudiced, now? Saying that she shouldn't have lost her virginity with me because I'm an alien? That's just rude. I'll have you know that she's an alien to me, actually, _and, _strictly speaking, I just lost my virginity to her, because so far in this body, or the last one, come to that, I hadn't - "

"Enough!" Rose shouts loudly, and silence descends in the room instantly. She winces, then. "My head hurts," she mutters.

"So does mine," admits her mum.

"Mine doesn't," the Doctor says brightly, ever the optimist. "Superior biolo - "

Rose hits him with her pillow.

There's another awkward silence.

"So..." the Doctor begins, not being able to fight the urge to break it.

"So..." agrees Rose, wondering how she can possibly put the phrase _right Mum, me and the Doctor are off to shag some more, see you sometime mid-May _in a more appropriate way before legging it back to the TARDIS.

"I suppose I can't blame you," Jackie suddenly relents.

The Doctor raises his eyebrows in surprise. "Blame who?"

"Either of you," she answers. "I remember when me and Pete fell in love - "

" – okay, no more information there, please Mum," Rose interrupts hurriedly, unwilling to hear an anecdote about her parents' sex life. She does not glance at the Doctor, and studiously ignores her Mum's implication about herself and the Doctor having fallen in love. She's not sure if it's the one-way thing she'd always assumed it is up until this morning, but she isn't going to take her chances and risk being disappointed by an uncomprehending look in his eyes.

The Doctor doesn't look at Rose, either. He doesn't want to tell her yet. Doesn't want to say the words until they're in someplace less ordinary than this; perhaps in Belle Ariaa, as he hands over her birthday gift...

"Alright," Jackie sighs. "Fine. I know whatever I say isn't going to tear you apart, so..." Then she looks between Rose and the Doctor, smiling slightly. "And actually, I wouldn't want it to. It's weird, but I think you two fit, somehow, and...and I'm okay with that."

"Didn't sound like it earlier," he mutters.

"Well I am now, alright?" she replies heatedly. "Just you make sure you look after her. And...you know...use protection..."

The Doctor raises an eyebrow.

Rose closes her eyes in humiliation. "_Mum..." _she groans again. Then, suddenly, she sits up ramrod straight and stares at the Doctor with wide eyes. "Wait. Last night...? I know I haven't got any in here..."

He sighs. "Firstly, Rose, do you really think we should have that conversation in front of your mother, in light of recent events?"

She swallows heavily. "Nooo..."

Jackie snorts. "But you're bloody well going to answer her, you shifty sod. Come on. Out with it. She's not gonna get up the duff with your baby, is she?"

He glances away for a moment. "No," he answers firmly.

There's something about the way he says that which makes Rose's chest ache. "Is that like, a definite no? As in, an _it couldn't possibly happen ever _no?"

Jackie stares at her daughter in fascination, realising just how much she must love the Doctor to sound so sad about the prospect of never ever having children with him. She hadn't thought Rose even _liked_ kids!

"Weeelll," he draws out, biding his time. "I...I mean, it's not _unheard _of, exactly, but - "

" – exactly how many Time Lords kidnap defenceless young human women, then?" Jackie interjects abruptly, always the over-protective mother. "Is it some sort of kink your species have?"

"No!" he exclaims, sounding offended. "No, of course not. Hardly anyone did, which is why it's difficult to pinpoint whether we're truly 100% compatible – oi, hang on, I did not _kidnap _her, thanks very much; she _chose _to come away with me! And she's hardly _defenceless; _she's got you as a mother!"

Jackie harrumphs. Rose would be laughing, except her mind's inexplicably still whirring over the topic of children.

"But anyway. It's...well, I'd say it's highly unlikely that Rose and I could..." Rose's face falls for a split second, and so the Doctor trails away from his point. "Are you okay?" he asks her softly.

"Yeah," she answers instantly, averting her gaze. "Course I am."

He nods his acceptance, and continues with what he's saying. "I mean, it's only been _one_ time. Very, extremely improbable that we're _that _impressive."

Jackie looks mildly satisfied by this. "Right. Well. I'll hold you to that. If in nine months' time you dump her back here with a bump the size of a small hippo then you'll have a lot to answer for, mate," she tells him sternly. Then she shakes her head in a rueful manner and leaves Rose's bedroom.

He's about to tell Rose something deep and meaningful like how he'd never abandon her, when -

"Well, wasn't that a lovely way to spend a Saturday morning?" she grumbles sarcastically, flopping onto her back.

He reaches for her hand beneath the duvet. "I can think of better things to do, granted, but it wasn't as excruciatingly awful as I'd imagined telling your mother would be."

"Telling my mother what?" Rose retorts, turning her head to look at him.

"That we're together," he answers, like it's obvious and she's stupid for asking. "Although, I really didn't think we'd be naked and actually in bed together as we told her. That's quite alarming, really. I wonder how many other people can say that's how they tell the family, eh?"

She smiles at him. "One drunken night together and you've been planning our future already," she teases playfully.

"I'm always planning our future," he says. She stares at him oddly, so he covers his tracks with, "For instance, this evening, I'm taking you to Belle Ariaa, the nicest restaurant the other side of the sun."

"Ooh, sounds lovely. How come?"

"Don't you remember what I told you last night?"

"Nope. Drunk, remember?"

"Oh. Well, I told you that I was going to take you somewhere romantic to give you your birthday gift."

"Oh yeah! I remember that bit!" She pauses, and frowns. "I didn't think you'd actually do it, though."

He looks affronted. "Why, don't you want me to?"

"No!" she says hurriedly. His brow furrows further. "I mean, no, that's not what I meant; yes, of course I want you to." She pauses and grins at him. "We've been living on chips for the last fortnight; we could do with a three course meal."

He beams back at her. "Brilliant!" He glances across the room. "Now, I know you weren't really with it last night, but have you any idea where my boxers went?"

She's about to shrug and say no, when she spots them half-hidden behind her dressing table's mirror. Then, she decides to shrug and say no anyway. "Nope, no idea at all," she denies vehemently. "Perhaps you'd best not wear any."

He doesn't believe her; she's got mischief in her eyes. But he doesn't call her on it, figuring he can use this to his advantage. He flings back the duvet and shamelessly stands up, wandering around the room stark naked. He chances a look back at Rose and sees her staring at him with her mouth hanging open.

"See something you like?" he grins, jolting Rose out of her daydreaming.

"Yes," she answers automatically. "I mean no! I mean...well, yes, obviously."

He pulls on his shirt and begins to button it up. "Come on, get dressed. I've booked the table for half-six, and we've got to spend the day looking around the observatory deck they've got there first."

Her mouth falls open again, and she remains wrapped up in the duvet. "You never booked a table," she states disbelievingly.

He tugs at his ear sheepishly. "Weeellll...no, not really, no. But! I have the psychic paper, in which case, I sort of have."

"Ahhh, I see," she beams at him. "We've not gone completely domestic, then, that's good."

He snorts, pulling on his trousers. Forgoing his pants, much to Rose's amusement and gratitude. "Course not."

She ponders something for a moment, and gets out of the bed too, grabbing her dress from the night before and slipping it on, not bothering with underwear either. "Hang on, Doctor," she begins, walking up to him and standing so close that he swallows convulsively at the sight of her _just there _in front of him, ready to kiss, in _that dress_. "This observatory deck. Is there currently something...suspicious...going on with it? Some baddies that need fighting? Some mystery that needs solving?" She pokes her tongue out between her teeth to touch the corner of her mouth, and she thinks she's so clever because maybe, perhaps she is.

He leans in closer to her, and murmurs in a low voice, "Wouldn't that attract you even more?"

"What to, you or the restaurant?" she smirks.

His hands come up to rest possessively at her hips, and he strokes his thumbs over the satin fabric he finds there. "Both."

"Probably," she confesses, standing on her tiptoes until they are eye-level. "I do _love _solving a good mystery."

"I know you do," he replies, licking his lips absently. "And it's always good to get the adrenaline going before a romantic meal."

"Oh yeah?" she whispers across his lips. "Why's that?"

"I'm sure I don't need to draw you a diagram," he points out.

She grins wickedly. "Oh, I think you might. You are so wonderfully good at drawing, after all. I bet you could convey a thousand words with one picture."

"I bet I could convey a thousand words with one action," he counters.

"And what action would that be?" she asks innocently, wrapping her arms around his neck.

His hands dance up her ribs and wind their way into her hair and she shivers pleasantly. "Something a bit like this, perhaps?" he suggests, before drawing their lips together firmly.

**_A/N: Hope you liked :) Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed last time. I hope you're still enjoying it! xxx_**


	4. Chapter 4

_**Part 4**_

_**-x-**_

The TARDIS materialises in the precise location her occupants are aiming for: the observatory deck of Belle Ariaa. Here, not only can you look out on the planets and stars' orbits from the most fantastic vantage point in the universe, but you can also peruse the cosmos' innovative creations that are displayed within a universally renowned art gallery. It's all rather wonderful, and the Doctor only has to glance at Rose to know that her big, bright smile means she thinks so too.

First things first, before any romantic-ness can prevail, he and Rose have got the mystery to solve. There's something possibly dodgy going on with the fact that the curator of the art gallery is a jellyfish with a rational brain. Well, that's how Rose thinks of it in her mind. Its true name is something _very _hard to pronounce, so she calls it Bob for short.

Anyway, issue is, the restaurant and its accompanying facilities are _supposed _to be run by a race called the Cupers (she can pronounce that one, even if that's probably not how it's spelt) but Bob commandeered the art gallery section a few days ago and the Cupers have had a hard time negotiating with him to give it back, seeing as – due to some inheritance dispute that Rose is completely puzzled by but comforts Bob about anyway – he thinks it's rightfully his to run as he pleases (which includes charging people not with money but in fruit, much to the Doctor's dismay when he is forced to hand over a banana for the entrance of himself and his 'pink and yellow human' to see the Monet exhibition. _Should've just gone to see Monet himself, _the Doctor had in fact grumbled. But that's by-the-by.)

So, cue the Doctor and Rose, with matching smiles, arriving to solve the problem. Rose speaks with Bob, at length (much to the Doctor's annoyance when he can't gather her attention for over _ten whole minutes!) _and the Doctor, disgruntled by Rose's disappearing act as well as having no banana to snack on (he hasn't eaten since _breakfast. _Which was...okay, fine, so only a couple of hours ago. And he'll be having a slap-up meal soon enough. But _still. _Insulting) decides to have a chat with the Cupers about the troubling situation.

As per usual of late, the Doctor muses, it's Rose who ends up settling the matter. He's not sure how. By using her womanly wiles, no doubt. Anyway, just forty minutes later, both Bob and Cupers are happy as Larry (whoever Larry is...why do humans come up with these strange sayings?) and the Doctor and Rose are free to enjoy the splendours of the art gallery in peace. Well, relatively. They endure the tourists for awhile, but then the Doctor decides he's had enough of the noise and hustle and bustle and so, when he bundles Rose into the next sector of the gallery, where no one else has reached yet, he sonics the door shut behind them and gives her an innocent look when she tells him off.

"I want to show you all this in peace, not with all that lot pushing us onto the next painting or sculpture before you've taken it in," he replies to her.

"Right," she says sarcastically, trailing her finger down his chest as she steps up close to him. "It's not 'cos you want me all to yourself amongst the masterpieces, then?"

He swallows thickly. "Weeelll..." Flashing her a grin, he leans in for a kiss, but Rose backs away before he can reach her mouth. He pouts. "Why'd you move away?"

"I want to appreciate the art, Doctor," she tells him mock-sternly, turning from him to admire a piece from 34th century Earth.

He closes the distance between them again and wraps his arms around her waist from behind. "In that case, let me give you a commentary," he whispers close to her ear.

She giggles and lets him be her tour guide in a similar fashion for the rest of the gallery, relishing in their closeness and his intimate, intelligent whispers.

_**-x-**_

Sometime later, Rose is leaning against him (not because she's tired; just because she can) as he guides her out of the gallery.

"So! Time to go back to the TARDIS," he announces, his hand at the small of her back, gently nudging her towards the ship. "Got to get ready for our big date!" He winks at her and she giggles.

"Where's the restaurant in this place, then?" she asks.

"It's on the floor below," he answers, gesturing for her to enter their ship first. He's being very chivalrous today, he's decided. "I'll move the TARDIS down there in a minute, 'cos they close this area later on and I don't think I'll be in the mood to break in."

"No? What will you be in the mood for later?" she asks innocently, twirling her hair around her finger.

He sniffs, feigning nonchalance. "Ooh, I dunno. Game of scrabble, maybe?"

She mock-scowls as she walks backwards away from him. "Don't land us fifty thousand years in the future when the restaurant's closed, yeah?"

"Course not," he answers, as if the idea is scandalous. "The TARDIS will land wherever you want to go; you're her favourite, Rose Tyler. Why do you think we end up visiting your mum so often? It isn't for the Sheppard's pie, you know."

"Oh, whatever – you _love _Mum's Sheppard's pie! In fact, I do recall her telling me that you secretly asked her to make you a bulk load to take on board the TARDIS!" she smirks triumphantly.

He tugs at his ear, knowing he's been caught out. "Ah. Yes, well. See, I was going to tell you about that, you know. I was going to let you eat some, too; I wasn't keeping it from you, I promise," he says hurriedly.

Rose laughs and waves her hand dismissively. "I really don't mind. See you in a minute!"

"More like an hour," he mutters under his breath, knowing how long it takes Rose Tyler to even _choose_ a dress let alone get _in _one.

"Heard that!" she calls out to him as she walks away.

"Hoped you would!" he calls back. He turns around and strokes the console, smiling up at the time rotor. "You'll land us right where we need to be, yeah, old girl?"

The TARDIS hums appreciatively. Or maybe in approval. Or probably both.

The Doctor lowers his voice to confide, "Now, if all goes to plan tonight and Rose doesn't end up hating me, things might get a bit..." he trails off, considering his words carefully. "Different, in here," he settles on.

He's not really sure why, but he feels like he has to justify this to his ship, considering that nothing of the sort of thing he's hoping will happen tonight has happened within the TARDIS before. Well, at least, nothing that's included _him. _He's pretty sure a couple of the couples he's had on board might've...done things...but that really doesn't need to be thought about so he clears his musings on that topic pretty much instantly.

"Anyway, what I'm trying to say is, I hope you don't find it...weird...but, see..." He checks over his shoulder to make sure Rose isn't within earshot. "I love her so much, and I want to, er..._show_ her that. Like, you know, in _that way._ In our home..."

He listens for a moment; even though she can't talk back at him, he can tell, sometimes, by the pitch of the hums she makes, what the TARDIS is thinking about certain things.

Right now, he gets the distinct impression that his ship is laughing at him.

"What?" he counters defensively. "I'm just being courteous - forewarning you and that! You're sentient – who knows how you feel about that sort of thing happening in here?"

He feels telepathically calmed, then, as if she's reassuring him. He visibly relaxes, and pats the console again. "Thanks, old girl."

_**-x-**_

And then comes the date. The proper part of the date. The date-y part of the date.

"Wow," Rose breathes, as they step out of the TARDIS and onto a plush purple carpet.

"Impressive, right?" the Doctor grins, taking her hand.

She takes in the glass walls of the restaurant, the cascading water of the glass fountain at its entrance. Looking out, she sees the stars sparkling at them through the glass as if they're personally there to make things as romantic as possible. A few days ago, she'd never have imagined that the Doctor wanted to take her to a place like this.

"Yeah," she answers, squeezing his hand tightly. "It's amazing!"

Everything feels like it's going to be perfect. Rose wonders if she's just imagining it, or making this evening out to be bigger and better than it really will be. But she can't help it. She feels so happy, so...oh, it's indescribable. All she knows is that she can't wait to spend this evening in this place, with the Doctor.

_**-x-**_

As they finish off their third course, the Doctor steals a strawberry from Rose's dessert. At her playful glare, he leans over and draws a heart in the chocolate sauce left on her plate. She immediately giggles.

"See," he whispers, "I can do this romantic business. Sort of."

"Mmhmm," she agrees, biting her lip to hold back her grin.

"And doesn't it make you want to stay with me forever?" he asks her, his fingers moving to play with hers atop the table.

"I wanted that anyway, you daft alien," she says softly. "But I s'pose this seals the deal."

He beams at her, eyes shining in the candlelight. "Nah, I tell you what seals the deal," he begins wisely, reaching his hand into his pocket. He pauses then, his brow furrowing as he realises something. "I mean, don't get too excited, it's not a ring," he says hurriedly.

Rose bursts out laughing. "That's fine by me," she giggles. "Too young for all that."

He smiles, relieved. "Thought so. Anyway!" He pulls his hand out with a flourish, and hands her a wrapped up rectangular box.

"Where'd you get this silver wrapping paper? And the little bow?" she grins teasingly.

He winces, wishing she hadn't asked him that. "Um...perhaps...your Mum, maybe?" He sniffs nonchalantly, as if that's all that needs to be said on the issue.

Rose smiles at his thoughtfulness, wondering if he wrapped it himself or got her Mum to do it for him. She shrugs her question away, deciding it doesn't remotely matter, and carefully opens the gift.

Inside is a delicate silver bracelet, with stones of different shades of blue set along it, glinting beautifully in the moonlight.

"God, this is gorgeous!" Rose gasps, examining it closely.

"Yep," the Doctor agrees, popping the 'p.' "For my gorgeous Rose."

She glances up at him between her lashes. "Okay, so this is really starting to get weird now."

He shrugs innocently. "What, I can't compliment you?"

"Where's this from?" she asks instead of answering him.

"All sorts of places."

"Bit like you, then," she smiles.

"Bit like me," he nods with a grin.

"What, so is each different stone from someplace else?"

"Yeah," he answers, quickly putting on his glasses and leaning on his elbows across the table. "That little turquoise one – I picked that up on Morichio Minor. And see that one, the palest one?" he says, delicately pointing it out. Rose nods, entranced. "That's from Kibonto. The azure colour, I got that from Telos, in the mountains of Zimboota. The deep blue, almost violet one; that's found in the rocks on Antio. And the TARDIS blue one? That's...well, that's from a shop in Camden. Funny, that. Anyway, I saved them in my pocket until I found the perfect silver chain to have them set in. Incidentally, that's from London, too. Some jewellers on Oxford Street that I can't remember the name of. Anyway, _then _I took the chain and the blue stones to an old mate of mine, Kastall – he's a Zembar who lives in Stockholm disguised as a human, completely nice and safe and just wants to make pretty jewellery, him - and he was more than happy to fix it up how I wanted it."

"You did all that," she marvels happily, biting her lip. "How'd you do it without me noticing?"

"Oh, this was a few months ago, when you were at your Mum's and locked me out of the flat because of that argument we had," he informs her wisely. Rose giggled, remembering their silly fight and how she'd given up on staying mad at him after about ten minutes. "I got bored sitting there in the TARDIS on my own, so I started conjuring up ideas on how to make you like me again. So _then, _I took a few trips to various planets et cetera, and there we have it. So...well, it was going to be a 'please forgive me' present. But then, see, I got the TARDIS to get me back about ten minutes after I left, this time materialising in your Mum's living room, and you were standing there with your arms folded and foot tapping as if you were expecting me to have arrived sooner, and then you sighed and rolled your eyes and mumbled 'let's go' and then we left and you forgave me super-quickly, really, 'cos just half hour later we were watching _The Lion King _all snuggled up on the sofa. So! I didn't give it to you then. Thought I'd save it for a more...romantic setting, once I'd got my courage up, so to speak."

She smiles beautifully at him. "Well, thank you. It's so lovely. It's the most precious thing I'll ever have, I'm sure of it."

"Oh, I don't know about that," he disagrees softly. "I expect I'm going to have to live up to this, right? One-up each present every birthday, Christmas and anniversary for every year of your life."

"That's very sweet. I suppose I'll have lots of precious things, then," she smiles. She feels like she's the luckiest girl in the universe. She's tamed a flipping _Time Lord_ – the Oncoming Storm himself – into buying romantic gifts. She reckons she should be proud of herself.

"Yeah. Plus, if ever we _did..."_ he trails off, and she blinks, a little dumbfounded, when he blushes.

"Doctor...?" she prompts. "If ever we what?"

He coughs uncomfortably, leaning back away from her. "Weeelll. It's probably way too soon for me to even suggest this. In fact it is, of _course_ it is. It's just...well. This morning, you looked...when I said that we couldn't, you looked...upset, and...but I think maybe...well, maybe we actually _can..._in which case, I'm pretty sure that this bracelet will definitely not be the most precious thing you'll ever have, so..."

"What are you on about?" she interrupts, completely lost.

"You know," he hedges, tugging his ear. He can't believe how hard it is to say the words. He's a bit petrified she'll run away from whatever they have now, if he starts talking about the distant future too much. "That thing we were discussing with your mother this morning."

"What thing? Be more specific!"

"Babies!" he blurts out. A little too loud, apparently, because now the waiter over there is staring at him. Oops.

"Babies?" Rose gasps in surprise.

"Yes," he sighs. "What I'm saying is, I did some research, earlier, when you were getting ready. With a bit of fiddling with the genetics, we could, in fact, procreate. But it wouldn't be via an accident – like I said, it'd take some fiddling with some stuff. But, yes, technically, we could have children together. In the future. Not now. In about five or ten or fifteen years, maybe. If you want." He clears his throat nervously and waits for her to answer.

"Right," she exhales roughly. "Right, well. That's. Huh."

Apparently, she's gone into a state of shock. "Rose?" he prompts. "Look, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have assumed. I shouldn't have brought it up, just forget it."

"No, wait a sec," she replies, shaking her head. She swallows past the lump in her throat. "You're seriously that serious about me?"

His brows draw together. "Yes, completely," he answers, looking at her as if she's daft. "I know we're just starting out and that, but I can't help but visualise my life, what it will be like, in the future, and you, you have to be there. Always, I...I...I want you to be there."

She bites her lip apprehensively. "You won't...you won't ever take me back to Mum, to live a normal life again without you? You won't ever get bored and leave me, replace me with someone younger and cleverer and - "

"Rose, stop it," he interrupts gently, leaning across to her again. He frames her face with his hands. "I told you, you can spend the rest of your life with me, if you want. Because _I _want. I want you to. I'll never leave you. Weeelll, unless you're in danger-" Rose's eyes flash dangerously at him and he swallows convulsively. "I mean, of course, you'd only send yourself right back to me if I tried to keep you safe, so what's the point?" he amends, smiling sheepishly. He drops his hands and squeezes hers.

"Good," she smiles. "Then yeah."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. All of what you see for us, for our future, I want that. I want to be with you for- "

"Shh, wait," he interrupts again, a finger pressed to her lips to hush her. "Turn it over."

"What?" she mumbles.

"The bracelet. Turn it over."

She slowly turns the bracelet over in her hands, and squints in confusion when she sees a tiny scrawl on the back of the silver chain. "What's this?" she asks him, peering at it even closer.

He stares at her, his faces inches from hers, watching for her reaction. Knowing she'll read:

_Forever,_ on the back of the clasp, and five individual words on the back of each stone: _because it's better with you_

When Rose realises what it says, her breath hitches and she looks at him with tears in her eyes.

"Doctor, I - " she starts. But she can't finish. She has no words to say, not really. He's made her speechless. She kisses him instead, and his hands find her face again, thumbs brushing over her cheeks as he draws her closer. They're both leaning over the table in an uncomfortable sort of way, but neither really notice. His fingertips slip into her hair and he's kissing her harder, more urgently, when suddenly she pulls back, gasping. "Look!"

She points out of the window, and he smiles when he sees the phenomenal show of lights streaming across the sky.

"Ah yes," he whispers, his voice still husky as a result of that kiss. "I remember hearing a story about these once. Those lights, all those colours – it's not fireworks or an aurora type thing or anything. They're creatures."

"Creatures?" she marvels, in utter awe.

"A swarm of Derachpttt. Completely incapable of being on their own, them. Look ugly without their friends, too. Only when they come together do they truly outshine the rest of the universe."

"Bit like us, then," she smiles, somehow teasing and earnest at the same time.

He glances at Rose, feeling a perfect ratio of amusement and adoration for her. But she's still looking out of the window, so she can't see the expression of unbidden love that's captured on his face. "Yeah," he murmurs, his voice cracking slightly. It feels heavy with emotion, matching the moment.

And now, he realises, is the perfect time to say it. They've both practically pledged forever to each other. He's got all the confirmation he needs that she feels the same way. Who needs courage to say this, anyway? Why has he been scared to say it before now? It suddenly seems so very simple, so very easy, so very, completely, honestly _true. _"I love you, Rose," he tells her.

She shifts her eyes away from the spectacular sight in front of her and a few tears fall to her cheeks as she smiles at him widely. Her hand finds his instinctively, without even looking down. "I love you too," she whispers back. And everything is perfect.


End file.
